


Demon Dolls and Iron Dads

by WhimsicalEthnographies



Series: Up Came the Sun [15]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I Don't Even Know, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony already is a good dad, Tony will be a good dad, at least I hope it's humorous, babies are terrifying, cracky crack, dad tony stark, demon baby dolls, soon to be - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalEthnographies/pseuds/WhimsicalEthnographies
Summary: “Wait, so what is this?”“PR stunt, kiddo!” Tony holds the Infant Simulator out to Peter, who looks at it like Tony is trying to hand him a dead racoon.“Was this Pepper’s idea?” Peter takes a step back, still eyeing the piece of plastic as if it might suddenly attack him.“No!” Tony rolls his eyes.  “It was my idea.  And screw you for thinking my wife would further harmful stereotypes about clueless fathers who rely too much on their wives because they can’t keep their babies alive, Parker.”





	Demon Dolls and Iron Dads

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, guys.
> 
> This whole thing is probably full of mistakes. In fact, this whole thing IS a mistake.
> 
>  
> 
> If you don't mind a blog that consists of shitposting, misunderstanding the memes all the kids talk about today, Johnlock conspiracies, and occasional MCU screaming follow me on the tumblr dot com [whimsicalethnographies](http://whimsicalethnographies.tumblr.com/)

“Wait, so what is this?”

“PR stunt, kiddo!” Tony holds the _Infant Simulator_ out to Peter, who looks at it like Tony is trying to hand him a dead racoon.

“Was this Pepper’s idea?” Peter takes a step back, still eyeing the piece of plastic as if it might suddenly attack him.

“No!” Tony rolls his eyes. “It was my idea. And screw you for thinking _my_ wife would further harmful stereotypes about clueless fathers who rely too much on their wives because they can’t keep their babies alive, Parker.”

“Ok, but like, can you keep a baby alive, Mr. Stark?”

“I’ve kept you alive, haven’t I?” Tony smirks, then turns to set the plastic doll face-down on his work table so he can continue to modify the tracker inside. He got it from some online reproductive health education warehouse. _Life-like baby for students! Includes wireless programming to track and report on caregiver responses!_

“You got me there,” Peter hops up on the table-top and looks over Tony’s shoulder, his feet kicking. “But like, I can feed myself and go to the bathroom on my own--”

“Mostly.”

“--so it’s kind of different. I don’t know that Pepper would be okay with you making the baby an Iron-baby suit.”

“Which is why we won’t tell her about it until the kid is sixteen!” Tony flips the back of the baby closed and turns it face-up.

“Ok, so say you can keep a baby alive,” Peter reaches out and pokes the doll’s forehead, his nose crinkling in disgust. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, I’m officially retired aside from when I chase you around or when Cap can’t handle it which seems like always, and I’m supposed to play the part of this fun, relaxed stay-at-home-dad now. Pepper wants me to play into SI public relations or something. She says it’ll be cute, humanize me a little,” Tony holds up the doll and flicks one of the eyes where the hidden cameras reside.

“I don’t think you need to be humanized, Mr. Stark,” Peter says quietly, still looking at the plastic doll like it might bite him. “But even if you did...why this?”

“Timing, kiddo, the world knows Pep’s gonna pop in about two months.”

“Yeah, I get that, but why _this?_ ” He pokes the plastic forehead again.

“Because it’s fun!” Tony sets the doll back on his workstation; Peter subconsciously wiggles away from it.

“It’s creepy. It looks like it should show up on the Haunted Doll Watch.”

“The what-was-that?”

“Haunted Doll Watch? From Mah-bim-bam? I play it all the time when we’re working.”

“Stop making up words, Spider-kid,” Tony holds the dolls out to Peter. “Here.”

“I don’t want it!” Peter shys away again and hops off the table. “In fact, why am I here?”

“Because you, my dear Spider-child, are going to help me.”

“Um, NO!” Peter starts backing away from the table, holding his hands up in front of him. “In fact, why don’t we give it a few months. Like, two, specifically. Maybe until early April and then I can help you with a real baby.”

“Ah ah!” Tony holds up his finger. “Both Peter Parker and Spider-Man have pledged to be, and I quote, ‘the best big brother ever.’ In fact, I’m sure FRIDAY can pull up the feed. And as such, both Peter Parker and Spider-Man are obligated to be a part of this half-baked plan.”

“Half-baked? It was your plan, Mr. Stark,” Peter is still backing towards the door of the lab.

“FRIDAY, lock the lab door,” Tony sets the dolls down and turns to face Peter fully. “Come on, kid, imagine the looks on your little classmates faces when you show up on Tony Stark’s personal YouTube feed. Especially that little lightning-shithead.”

“Flash. And I am imagining it, and I’m imagining more than one might put together who Spider-Man is. They believe I have an internship now, but it’s gonna be hard to explain how a high school intern is hanging out in Iron Man’s penthouse at all hours.”

“Just tell them you’re like my PA.”

“A PA who essentially lives with you?” Peter rolls his eyes. “That’s _weird,_ even for you. Not to mention, if they did believe that, probably violating some state labor laws.”

“Hmmm,” Tony purses his lips. The kid has a point. “Fine. Ceded. Spider-Man can do it then.”

“Spider-Man doesn’t want to do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. Stark, that thing is creepy as shit!” Peter stomps over, waving his arm at the doll. “Look at it! It looks like it can see all my sins.”

“Hey, don’t talk about your little sister that way, Parker.”

“Oh my god!”

“You know, this could probably build some good PR for Spidey, too,” Tony turns back to the doll. It’s not that creepy. “Get those asshole, nosy cops off our backs. _And_ shut that Jameson bitch up.”

“Or people will think it’s creepy and weird, and that’s even before the plastic-baby-nightmares.”

“Spidey owes me a lot of favors! I’m cashing them all in right now.”

“This is coercion.”

“Yu-p,” Tony sets the doll down. “FRI, unlock the door. Make sure you get all your homework done in study hall tomorrow, kiddo,” he points at Peter as he heads to the door of the lab. “Tony Stark’s Dad Show starts at 7pm sharp.”

“Hey, don’t leave me alone here with it!” Peter scurries behind him out the door, grabbing the back of his t-shirt for what Tony is sure is dramatic emphasis.

This is going to be fun.

*************

“Ready, kiddo?” Tony taps the baby doll’s left eye, looking over to ensure his image is feeding to the screen on the counter. Satisfied, he switches the feed over to the portable StarkCamera next to it. He doesn’t want to turn the doll on until they’re fully ready to go.

“No!” Peter stands behind him, pouting with gusto. “You know, I could leave.”

“And then I could call your aunt,” Tony grabs the small camera and holds it up. “Mask on, it’s showtime.”

Peter groans dramatically behind him but activates his mask, his voice changing as it encloses his face. “Whoa!” He hears himself. “Well, I guess this is better than Interrogation Mode.”

“Ha! That was my best one,” Tony laughs to himself. “But now you can rest assured none of your little classmates will recognize you.”

“Right now that’s the least of my concerns,” Peter steps up beside him at the counter, looking down at the doll. “It’s scary Mr. Stark. It’s not even on and it’s following me.”

“It is not.”

“Yes,” Peter jumps to his left, then jumps over to Tony’s other side. “Its eyes are following me. I swear.”

“Well, pull up your big boy underwear, Underoos, because it’s almost showtime.”

“Mr. Staarrrk!”

“You took on a mad Titan with me, Peter Parker. Why does this thing creep you out so much?”

“Because a demon very clearly lives in it, Mr. Stark! I sent a picture to Ned and MJ and they agree! Ned said the photo even followed him around the room.”

“Ned would work himself into a panic over anything, and you’re about to do the same,” Tony grabs Peter’s shoulder and squeezes. “Besides, you’re just back-up. I’m gonna be doing most of the heavy lifting. And _don’t_ jump around like that once the camera is rolling. Now get in the shot.”

Tony lifts the camera up so both of them appear on the screen. “And stop scowling. Your eyes are the ones that look evil, right now.”

“Fine,” Peter huffs, his shoulders slumping. Tony reaches over and taps the screen, and with that, the feed goes live.

“Hello, friends. Tony Stark here, and our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. As I’m sure you are all aware,” he speaks to the camera in the air, other arm around Peter’s shoulders to prevent him from escaping. “I am officially retired and my lovely wife Pepper is expecting our first Iron Baby. So, I figured, why not get some practice, and entertain the world?”

Tony flicks the camera around to the baby doll sitting on the kitchen counter. “This is Baby Mark-1--”

“‘Mark 1?’ Peter mumbles behind him and Tony clasps his shoulder, probably a little bit too roughly.

“--and she was originally designed for educational purposes. I, however, modified her a bit, and you are going to be getting a live feed of Iron Man and Spider-Man as we show the world what life will be like for the soon-to-be-revealed Iron Baby. Now,” Tony reaches down and flips the modified switch under the swaddling blanket wrapped around the baby doll. The feed immediately switches over to the cameras in the baby’s eyes. Tony picks the doll up, cradling it the way the parenting coach he’d hired last month showed him. “Spider-Man, say hello to your little sister.”

Peter waves meekly at the baby. “I would just like the world to know this was not my idea.”

“Amazing big brother,” Tony rolls his eyes at the baby’s face. The feed on the screen is odd from this angle, but that’s partially the point. “Now, hang on to your asses, everyone…”

“You can’t talk like that in front of a baby, Mr. Stark!”

Tony cringes and smiles sheepishly on the screen. “Off to a great start!”

******

He doesn’t want to admit it, ever, but...the kid may be right about the doll containing a demon.

Tony curses as he pours hot coffee over his hand, distracted by the shrill robotic wail of the baby doll, which Peter is bouncing in his arms as he paces through the living room. The white eyes of his mask are wide and desperate on the screen as he starts walking faster and faster.

“Mr. Stark, it won’t stop crying!”

Tony doesn’t even bother to correct him with a _she_. The doll seems to have been crying non-stop since they “put her to bed” last night at eight, no matter how many times they pushed the buttons on its hands for “feeding” and “changing” and “burping.” Neither of them had gotten an ounce of sleep, and Tony quickly switched from nervous about Pepper being out of town to extremely relieved. “It never stops crying,” Tony mutters as he shoves his scalded hand under the cool tap.

“Did you do anything when you made your _adjustments?_ ” Tony turns when he hears the metallic tapping of his feet in the suit enter the kitchen.

“No, just the cameras,” Tony flicks the tap off and schools his voice to be gentle as he holds out his hands. “Give her here, kid.”

Peter downright whimpers as he deposits the wailing doll into Tony’s arms, then scurries to the other side of the room. The noise coming out of the small piece of plastic is ungodly, higher and more shrill than any baby Tony has ever heard. “There, there,” Tony tries to coo at the doll in his arms, but he can’t stop the flinch on his face from the piercing sound. He’s had a headache since at least eleven last night.

“It’s been wailing for like eight hours!” Peter presses his gloved hands against the sides of his head, as if that might drown out the sound. “Don’t babies need sleep?”

“Maybe this baby is like me!” Tony snaps, harsher than he intended to, but the doll immediately goes silent. He looks down at it, shocked, his mouth hanging open on the screen on the counter.

“Oh my god, you did it,” Peter comes over to peer at the doll. “Yelling works!”

“Be quiet,” Tony hisses. “She’s asleep. She’s finally asleep. Now we’re going to set her down and relax for a few minutes.” He cautiously walks over to the sleeper next to the coffee table in the living room and gently sets the baby down. It’s mechanized eyes close with the change in pressure and position. “Oh thank God.” He turns back to Peter, who’s still standing dumbly in the kitchen. “Thank fucking God.”

“Where did you get that doll, Mr. Stark?” Peter sounds like he’s close to crying.

“Some education store online!” Tony whisper-yells and throws up his hands. “The listing said it would be realistic!”

“I told you, it’s possessed! And I swear its eyes were flicking side to side!”

“It’s not possessed, you’re just tired.” Tony pushes himself off the floor. “And the microphone is still on, so shhhhh.”

“The microphone stays on when it’s asleep? Why did you do that?” Peter whispers angrily, the eyes of his mask narrowing. “I told it to fuck off when it _fell asleep_ last night!”

“Well, now the world knows Spider-Man is an asshole. Great.”

“I didn’t want to do this!”

“You can leave,” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No I can’t, because it’s evil and I’m not leaving you alone with it!”

“Fine.”

“And Em was watching and says my voice sounds stupid,” Peter says as he retracts his mask, no longer whispering, when Tony gets to the kitchen. He doesn’t know if they’re out of the range of the microphone, but he’s too on edge to care.

“She did not,” Tony sighs and opens the fridge. There’s beer in there, and Lord knows they both deserve one, but somehow he has a feeling they’d get careless and it’d end up on the feed, which would not be great considering it’s 10:30 in the morning.

“Yes she did! Look!” Peter holds out his phone. Tony grabs it and squints. His glasses are...somewhere, lost in the mayhem of a demon doll. “Oh my god, here!” Peter grabs it back and holds it out, about two feet away so Tony can read it.

StupidSexyFlanders: _omg peter this is the best. My little sister <3’s it_

StupidSexyFlanders: _did Mr. Stark change something with the doll? Marie never screamed that long. Does it have settings?_

1376Michelle: _ur voice is ridic. You sound like you got high and inhaled sulfur hexaflouride. Tell Stark I said it sucks_

“You’re the one who wanted it changed. And it does not sound that bad. It’s not like I set it like Interrogation Mode was,” Tony chuckles to himself. Still a funny joke, even during this hell.

Another text pops up on Peter’s phone. This time it’s May.

May<3 : _that looks like hell. You sure that baby is supposed to be realistic?_

“It is hell,” Peter mumbles as Tony frowns and turns back to the fridge. He hears the clicking of Peter responding. “May says she coming over tonight after work, and that she hopes we stop the experiment before then.”

“Not a chance,” Tony makes a decision and grabs a beer. Now, it’s about pride.

********

“I think it’s broken,” Peter says as Tony falls onto the couch, towel over his wet hair.

“Huh?”

“I think the demon is broken,” Peter waves his hand towards the doll, which is still in the sleeper bassinet, eyes closed. He cocks his head to the side, which looks more menacing than it should with his mask on. “It’s been like, six hours.”

“Then don’t jinx it. And the microphone still works,” Tony tosses his towel over the arm of the couch. The doll has been silent since that morning, giving them each a chance to shower and Tony’s headache a chance to recede, although he doesn’t feel good about how frustrated he was getting while it wailed. “Did you break it?”

“NO!” Peter’s bright eyes narrow. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of that.”

“Don’t lie, you’ve been thinking about it,” Tony leans back, closing his eyes. “What are the comments saying?”

“They think it’s hilarious. And half of them agree with me that it’s possessed.”

“No comments about how we’re terrible parents?”

“Um, I am a brother, not a parent, thank you, and no. They just think you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“That’s good PR, I--”

The baby starts to wail, it’s plastic eyes popping open. Peter yelps and falls off the couch, his Spidey-sense apparently not attuned to fake, educational baby dolls.

“You jinxed it!”

“I did not,” Peter cowers at the side of the couch. “And it’s looking at me!”

“It’s not,” Tony drops to the floor and scoots over the to the bassinet. “It’s eyes just opened because--oh Jesus!” He jumps back, and would swear the doll’s eyes flicked over to him.

“See?” Peter squeaks, the high-pitch apparent even with the voice changer. “Possessed!”

“Ok, ok, no,” Tony shakes himself and crawls back over. “The doll just woke up, it probably needs to be changed.”

“It needs to be exorcised!”

“Pe-Spider-Man,” Tony barely catches himself in his exhaustion. “Come help me.”

“No!”

“Get over here,” Tony grits his teeth and reaches for the baby doll. As soon as he touches it, the crying sound morphs into a shrill, high-pitched drone, not unlike some of the psychological weapons SI used to produce. He barely hears Peter gasp and cover his ears. “FRI!” He drops the doll back into the basket to cover his own ears. It hurts. “Silent mode in the suit!”

Peter immediate relaxes, the eyes on his mask closing in relief. “Can you turn it off?” he yells over the increasingly painful howling.

“I’m trying!” Tony yells back, even though he knows he can’t hear him. He grabs the doll with one hand and looks into the camera-eyes. “Sorry folks, we’re having some technical difficulties! I’m gonna have to shut this down!” He doesn’t even know if his voice can be heard in the feed. Tony flips the doll and rips off the onesie, frantically fiddling with plastic cover on the back. Of course it won’t open.

“Open it!” Peter yells as he crawls over, barely audible over the piercing noise.

“I can’t!” Tony tries to get his fingers under the latch, but it won’t budge. “Fuck!” He yells, hitting it with the heel of his hand. If possible, he thinks the noise gets louder.

“Mr. Stark!”

“I’m trying!” Tony feels panic rise in his chest as he hits the plastic casing of the doll again. “It won’t open!”

“What?” Peter grabs the baby from him and tries himself, but the latch still won’t open, even with his strength. “What the hell?!”

“Just rip it open!” Tony mimes tearing with his hands, and Peter must get what he’s saying, because with a flick of his wrist, he simply tears the head of the doll, dropping the two pieces back into the basket.

Which apparently was a bad idea, because not only does the wailing not stop, but it gets _louder._ Tony wonders if his ears are going to start bleeding any minute.

“Mr. Stark, I can _feel_ the noise! Why isn’t it stopping?”

“I don’t know!” Tony grabs the body of the doll and shoves his hand in the open neck, grabbing for wires, but he has to drop it after a few seconds, the noise to loud to hold it that close to his head. “Fuck!”

“What do we do?!”

Tony grits his teeth and pushes himself back over to the couch. He looks at Peter, still on the floor, looking at the broken doll. “FRIDAY, activate Instant Kill!”

Peter’s head jerks up to look at him as the eyes on his mask narrow to the menacing red pinpricks. “Mr. Stark?” Karen must have announced it to him.

“Have at it, kid!” Tony gestures to the doll, and Peter just nods seriously, jumping up and over to the couch where he is. He raises one shaky arm and presses the trigger on his palm. Immediately, webs shoot out, sparking with a voltage that would bring down a bull elephant. The doll sparks and melts into the bassinet, the smell of burnt plastic filling the living room. The sound sputters and Peter shoots again, sending more electricity at the monstrosity, and Tony is immensely grateful he’d had the entire building grounded during its construction. Flames lick up, and the noise, blissfully, _stops._

“Holy shit,” Peter gasps, looking at his hand. “Did it stop?” he turns to Tony.

“FRI, sound on in the suit,” Tony nods, exhaling hard. His ears continue to ring. “It’s stopped.”

“What the fuck?” Peter slumps down onto the arm of the couch, still looking at the burning pile of metal and melted plastic.

Tony just groans and drops his head into his hands.

*******

“Ok, I deleted it,” Peter comes into the living room, dropping down next to Tony on the couch. “Most of the comments were either laughing or asking if we were okay, and even more of them agreed with me.”

“Agreed with you?” Tony narrows his eyes at very destroyed doll, still in its burned bassinet, which is now in the corner of the living room.

“That it was possessed.”

“Oh,” Tony rubs his forehead, headache back in full force. “I need a drink.”

“Me too,” Peter sighs beside him. “At least most everyone thought it was funny.”

“Great!”

“I mean, funny is good for PR, right? Humanizing or whatever?”

“Sure,” Tony shrugs. “Until they all realize Tony Stark couldn’t take care of a doll and remember he’s gonna have a baby in just over two months.”

“The doll was possessed, clearly. You can’t ‘take care’ of a demon.”

“That, or we’re just pathetic.”

“Hey!”

“I mean,” Tony waves towards the doll. “Even before it malfunctioned, I was about to throw it out the window. I was _this_ close.”

“That’s not true, Mr. Stark,” Peter scoots closer to him. He’s still in his suit. “It was loud, but I think you did good!”

“You would think that,” Tony rolls his eyes. “But seriously, I was done. I had a beer before lunch. What am I gonna do when she actually gets here?”

“What do you mean what are you going to do?” Peter lays his hand on Tony’s forearm. “You and Pepper are gonna take care of your baby.”

“Until I want to throw her out a window, apparently,” Tony drops his head back into his hands. Panic is licking at the back of his throat. He’s had quite a few freak-outs about his impending fatherhood, all of which Pepper was able to deftly talk him out of. This, however, feels different. This feels too much like watching a kid disintegrate in his arms, or Pepper fall two-hundred feet. This feels like he’s inviting disaster he can’t handle, and potentially destroying a life in the process.

“Um, you’re going to be a good dad, Tony,” Peter says softly, and presses his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. He rarely uses his first name, despite how often he’s asked him to, reserving it for when he’s trying to make a point he feels is particularly important.

“I couldn’t manage twenty-four hours with a doll, Pete.”

“Not a doll, a _demon_ ,” Peter lifts his head and looks at the mangled heap of metal and plastic, shivering for effect.

“That’s what babies do, kiddo. That thing is a teaching tool.”

“Yeah, a teaching tool to scare teenagers. Ned’s little sister was never like that…”

“You didn’t live with Ned, Peter,” Tony sighs. He cracks the knuckle of his left ring finger, trying to stop the shaking before it starts. “She may very well have been.”

“No,” Peter drops his head again. “Because she wasn’t possessed by a demon.”

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better, bud,” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Tony has gotten better at letting Peter try, but he still feels guilty allowing it, especially when he knows it isn’t going to work. “But I’m not feeling overly confident right now. And you know how I am.”

“Yep, I do,” Peter’s fingers dig into his forearm. “So I think you should listen to me when I say I think you’re going to be a good dad and not to worry about that stupid doll.”

Tony huffs, his eyes starting to burn. This kid. “You said yourself, you’re mostly self-sufficient.”

“Mr. Stark, remember when I got my hand stuck in that vending machine in the compound lobby?”

Tony manages a chuckle, of course he remembers. Leave it to Peter to get his hand stuck in a novelty vending machine--Clint’s idea--that he didn’t want to ruin by just ripping his hand out. “Yes, I do remember. And I remember your hand would have come right out if you’d just _let go_ of the bottle.”

“Yeah, and you came and sat with me and tried to figure out how to get me free without ruining Clint’s machine until you realized that. And you didn’t even get mad even though I was an idiot.”

“No, but I laughed pretty hard,” Tony bounces his shoulder under Peter’s head. “Then you moped around the rest of the day and refused to come out of your room.”

“Because it was pretty funny--”

“Yeah, I know.”

“--looking back. But anyway, you fixed it even though it was ridiculous and everyone else who walked by just out-right laughed and walked away. And then you told me embarrassing stories to make me feel better. And let me get dessert pizza for dinner. _And_ promised you’d never bring it up, ever.”

“That promise was a lie. And it’s easy to give you sugar when I know you’re going to be going home to your aunt.”

“Tony,” Peter says firmly, sounding much more like an adult than Tony is used to. “My point is that _I_ think you did pretty well, even though I was being an idiot kid who panicked about something stupid and almost broke something pretty expensive.”

“Peter, it was a dumb vending machine. I would have broken it if I had to.”

“Ok, then how about the ferry--”

“Oh god,” Tony shivers and swipes a hand across his face. He doesn’t like thinking about what a disaster that could have been. “Not either of our best moments…”

“No,” Peter’s fingers tighten again. “Like, looking back, you were right. I was an idiot, and you did what you had to do. I remember you said you sounded like your dad and I could tell you weren’t happy about it, but, you did what dads are supposed to do. Ben would have done the exact same thing.”

“Ben would never have encouraged you in the first place.”

“Ben knew more than he told anyone,” Peter says quietly. “Some things he told me, before he--yeah, I think Ben knew. And I think he may have been trying to gently push, responsibility and all that. He knew the little guy needed someone.”

“Everything is different in hindsight, Pete. You know that.”

“I also know he’s glad I have you,” Peter lifts his head again to look him directly in the face. “I know it.”

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Tony lifts his hand and ruffles Peter’s hair. “I’m gonna have to ask you to stop. All this emotion and maturity is giving me heartburn.”

“Well get used to it. There’s gonna be a lot more in two months.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs and wraps his arm around Peter’s shoulders. He looks over at the burnt metal and plastic in the corner. “My daughter will never act like that.”

“Of course not,” Peter wriggles out from under Tony’s arm and flops back into the couch. “Or be that nightmare-inducing.”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“Yes, it was. It stared into my soul. What were you thinking.”

“I was thinking it would be fun!”

“You were wrong. And made yourself have an existential crisis.”

“Well, at least we’ll have a funny story to tell at her wedding,” Tony flops back into the couch next to Peter. “You gonna take the suit off?”

“NO,” Peter side-eyes the corner. “Just in case it’s not dead.”

“We can throw it out, you know.”

“No, we can’t do that,” Peter sits up and grabs one of the half-a-dozen remotes from off the coffee table. “Because if it’s not dead, we can’t risk it escaping and terrorizing some other poor people.”

“Pete, you got it. Don’t doubt Instant Kill.”

“Are you gonna lock it back up again?” Peter clicks the television on and starts flipping through Amazon.

“After this? I don’t know. Apparently I didn’t realize how absolutely necessary it might be,” Tony frowns at the corner.

“I promise I won’t use it on your baby,” Peter selects an ocean life documentary and settles back into the couch.

************

“So I take it your little experiment is over?”

Tony lifts his head and blinks as Pepper pads into the room, unbuttoning her maternity blazer. “Huh? Oh, yeah,” he must have dozed off; the Amazon menu is all that’s on the giant television screen.

“Here I thought your inhuman sleeping habits would give you an advantage. It’s not even seven,” she teases as she sinks into the chair, rubbing her belly. She smiles softly, a clear indication that she actually thought no such thing. “Why is he still in the suit?”

“Hmmm? Oh,” Tony looks down at Peter, who’s snoring softly on an oversized pillow in his lap, still clad in his shiny suit.. “I quote, ‘just in case it’s not dead.’”

“Excuse me?”

“That,” Tony nods to the pile of crushed electronics on the other side of the room. “He thought it was possessed.”

Pepper laughs, high and light, shaking her head. “He may not have been wrong. That thing was incredibly creepy. And that noise was inhuman.”

“It was a _doll!”_

“Clearly not, if it felled both Iron Man and Spider-Man,” Pepper laughs again. “And I watched most of the feed, I think it was a bit more intense than an actual, live baby.”

“Well, it is used to scare teenagers,” Tony yawns and looks at his wife’s swollen belly. “I’d kiss you hello, but--” he gestures to Peter, who’s out cold “--you know how hard it is to get him down.”

“Then I’m glad I peed before I came in here, because I don’t think I can stand up from this chair on my own,” Pepper sighs and leans back into the large, overstuffed chair, pulling her feet up to set them on the ottoman. “Is he staying here tonight?”

“Think so?” Tony sets his hand on Peter’s messy hair. “I think May is coming here when she gets off? I don’t remember, honestly,” he shakes his head and lays it on the back of the couch. “Hope you weren’t expecting a meal when you got home…”

“After watching that? I’m surprised you’re both not hiding under the bed,” Pepper shrugs out of her blazer and tosses it on the ground. “Think we can get Shake Shack to deliver?”

“Oh, sure, FRI can you--”

“NO STOP LOOKING AT ME!” Peter jerks and jumps up from his pillow with a gasp and a shriek, nearly catching Tony in the chin with his hand, primed to shoot a web.

“Whoa!” Tony catches his wrist, expertly pushing two fingers between Peter’s and the trigger before it can go off. “Stand down, bud.”

“M’ss’r Star’?”

“Just a dream, kiddo,” Tony ruffles his hair and pushes him back down to the large pillow in his lap. “It’s dead, there’s no way that thing survived Instant Kill.”

“Pr’mise?” Peter mumbles, but he sinks back down into the pillow.

“Promise,” Tony nods, while he double-taps the band on Peter’s wrist. The suit melts off him, revealing one of Tony’s old MIT t-shirts and cotton pajama pants. Of course the kid never bothered to put on actual clothes. “You want a burger?”

“Mmmm, two. W’th b’con…” Peter settles back down, and within two seconds, he’s out again.

Tony adjusts the pillow and the kid, shifting it so his shoulder isn’t digging directly into his left knee. He looks over to Pepper, who’s smiling softly, rubbing her swollen belly. “What?”

“Nothing,” her eyes twinkle. “FRIDAY, please pull up the menu for Shake Shack.”

“Of course, Mrs. Boss.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I don't even know, you guys.
> 
> I stole the idea of Peter getting stuck in the vending machine from the Simpsons ep Marge on the Lam. Homer gets stuck and the firefighters realize he can't get out because he was holding the snacks. 
> 
> Also the trio definitely listens to MBMBaM.


End file.
